


The Procession of Good Soldiers

by Bythoseburningembers



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, And decided not to follow orders, Angst, Brothers, Cody is sorry, Freedom, Goodbyes, He took a page out of Anakin's book, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Loss, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Mentioned Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Obi-wan/Cody if you squint, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Rescue Missions, Slavery, Someone has to save the galaxy, Spies & Secret Agents, The Author Regrets Everything, What the Rebel Council doesn't know won't hurt them, this broke my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bythoseburningembers/pseuds/Bythoseburningembers
Summary: At the end of the Clone Wars, Anakin Skywalker hatched a plan with those closest to him. To protect his family and the galaxy, he went undercover as Sidious's Sith apprentice. The galaxy believes Anakin Skywalker betrayed the Jedi and the Republic.Seven years later, Obi-wan Kenobi leads a dangerous mission to get Anakin and his family out and destroy the Emperor.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 22
Kudos: 238





	1. Chapter One

“Lady Skywalker will see you now, Jedi scumbag,” Obi-wan’s cheek dragged along ground as he lifted his head to squint blearily at the shock of light. The last round of interrogations had ended about two hours earlier, or was it two days? He lost track of time a lot.

Ahsoka had warned him that this was a stupid idea.

“Ah,” he breathed, the air whistling in his nose. Pressure built in his temple until his vision blackened, and his entire body burned with the pain of a shattered nose. The panic of the moment was broken by a sudden thud beside his head. When he opened his eyes, the smooth outline of the durasteel floor shone along his eyeline. The thud had been his body apparently, as he collapsed onto the ground. “How considerate of her,” Obi-wan finished, as he blinked tears from his eyes.

“Up, you traitorous scum!” the Stormtrooper above him yelled, jabbing him in the side with his electro staff. Obi-wan scrambled to his feet, pressing his back against the corner wall instinctively. A rush of adrenaline made his blood freeze and then go hot all at once. The electro-cuffs around his wrists burned as the staff’s electric pulse transferred. He was relatively sure he would have third degree burns after this.

“Calm down, soldier,” a familiar voice berated. “He’s half dead already. Just get him to lady Skywalker in one piece,” Obi-wan’s split lip dribbled blood when he smiled, charmingly.

“I didn’t know you still cared, Cody,” he slurred. Cody stared at him from behind dark eyes, back straight, eyes focused. He hadn’t changed much, then. He had merely transferred from one master to the next, as easily as if they had never been brothers in combat. Obi-wan blamed himself for that. He had started this. _He_ had found Geonosis. _He_ had fought in the Clone War.

He had trained the boy.

“We mustn’t keep the Lady Skywalker waiting, must we?” He asked at last, swaying a bit. _I imagine this is what it means to be drunk,_ he thought, and vaguely remembered a time when the idea had intrigued him. The Jedi Temple had been strict on alcohol consumption, and yes, he had drunk wine and beers from innumerous planets, but he had never been _drunk._

He regretted that, a little bit. 

Cody snapped out of wherever his mind had taken him, sighing. He reached in and grabbed Obi-wan’s shoulder, guiding him from his cell with the gentleness of a brother soldier. A small cloth, smelling of sweat and engine grease, was lightly tied over his eyes. Obi-wan’s breath hitched in his chest as memories assailed him, his worst fears rising from their own ashes to loom over him omnisciently and _laugh_ ….

He may have whimpered involuntarily, because Cody squeezed his shoulder. “Easy, Jedi,” he murmured. Obi-wan leaned against him as his shaking legs were forced to move, limping crudely in the direction he was nudged. He heard the other Stormtrooper growl when he had half collapsed against the wall, retching and trembling. Cody hushed him impatiently, standing over his former general uncertainly. He did not help him, but he did not beat him either, and the small kindness glowed in Obi-wan’s chest.

It took fifteen minutes, but eventually he was led to a room. He knew because he felt the gentle swoosh of warm air hit his face, a welcome relief. It was followed closely by the smell of cinnamon and hydrid flowers. “My lady!” The Stormtrooper called from behind him. Obi-wan did not have to see to know they saluted.

He was shoved to his knees, and bit back a groan. “Take that blindfold off him. Who is this?” Lady Skywalker demanded, sounding every bit as domineering as her husband. Gentle hands quickly untied the cloth from his eyes, and Obi-wan blinked. The lights had been lowered, thank the Force. Before him was a golden throne, winding down a small flight of steps like melted wax. A canopy of dark green rested above her, and around him was room of soft candle light and cushions. The soft brown walls were covered in huge frames of waterfalls and forests and life. So much life. Obi-wan’s stomach clenched.

It was like all of Naboo existed in this room. Padme was wearing an emerald dress that reminded him of her servants, years earlier, on a ship that would transform his life. When he met her eyes, they were dark pools of chocolate brown, large and surrounded by rings of charcoal make up. Her hair was tied into an ornate display of cruel beauty.

His heart caught at the sight of her. She used to be so beautiful. Ahsoka had warned him this was a bad idea.

“It’s the Jedi, mi’lady. He was captured two days ago,” ah, so it had been two days. “You requested all Jedi be brought to you before execution?” Padme reached over, briefly dug into a basket and produced a fava fruit. Obi-wan’s mouth watered.

“Ah,” the Queen of the Empire whispered. “I remember. Obi-wan Kenobi. It’s been a long time,” he didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure how he could speak. “I wish my husband were here to see this. How the mighty fall when their time comes,” she cocked her head, studying him. Her hand whipped out, and he resisted the urge to flinch. “Leave us,” she commanded the Stormtroopers.

He felt Cody shuffle at his back, nervously. “Are you sure, mi’lady? He’s still a Jedi…”

Padme’s eyes did not leave his. “He’s restrained, isn’t he?”

“Yes, mi’lady.”

“Then leave us. And close the door. _Now,”_ they were bred to obey. Obi-wan felt oddly naked when they saluted and left, leaving a cold breeze at his back. Padme remained draped over her throne, chewing slowly, examining him. Obi-wan looked for any mercy in her gaze, marveled at how far the mighty had fallen.

“Oh, Padme,” he breathed, immeasurably sorry. “What have they done to you?” One side of her mouth quirked into a grin. She set down her fruit and picked up another item. A remote. Obi-wan stiffened, recognizing the contraption. His heart quickened in his chest. That was the device to either shock him to death or free him, and he had argued with Ahsoka for days about this. Had claimed to have more faith in the Force and his teachings and them than _anyone,_ now, sitting before the Queen, he could not help but inhale sharply in terror.

The cuffs around his wrist clicked open, and his shoulders sagged with relief. A second later, Padme’s slippered feet clambered down the stairs to him, and the arms that wrapped around his neck were a mother’s steady but loving ones. He sank into the embrace.

“Obi-wan,” Padme bit into his shoulder. “Oh, Obi-wan, you shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t be here, you idiot. You stubborn, Jedi idiot,” he smiled and buried his face into her neck. She smelled like blossoms and luxury. 

“How’re the twins?” He asked.

Padme pulled away, and once more her chocolate irises were caring and strong and fierce and Padme. She gently wrapped cool fingers around his bruised wrists, rubbing the persistent sting. Her eyes welled with tears. “They’re… Big. They’re so _big_ now, Obi-wan. They’re almost seven, and you wouldn’t believe…Well,” she cleared her throat. “I barely see them anymore because of Sidious,” her lip curled with hatred. “But they’re… They’re good. They’re still Light,” he felt tears sting his eyes at those words.

“That’s…” He gulped. “That’s a relief,” he managed. Padme tore a piece of fabric from her dress. “No, Padme, you don’t have too…” And promptly tied it around his wrists and dabbed at his bloody temple.

“Those animals,” she growled. “The things they do to people in the cells. Sometimes I can hear them screaming and I just…” her voice hitched, and Obi-wan remembered the last time he had seen her, on a ship ascending into the atmosphere of Courascant. 

She had seemed so brave then. Now, she merely seemed sad.

“What are you doing here?” Padme demanded. Obi-wan gave a mild half shrug.

“Sight-seeing,” he replied. Padme scowled.

“There are no cameras in here, Obi-wan. Sidious thinks there are, but I just feed him a sequence of pre-recorded loops. We’re safe,” she assured him. Obi-wan hadn’t doubted that, but he nodded anyway.

“Clever,” he praised.

Padme rolled her eyes with the same affectionate rudeness as her husband, gently easing an arm beneath his so she could haul them both to their feet. He grunted as another wave of pain rushed through him. Padme quickly seated him in her throne chair. The soft cushions felt strange beneath his sore body. He sank limply into the relief, breathing deeply.

“Here,” Padme pressed a cup to his lips, one hand carding through his hair and raising his head. He slurped the cool water, too exhausted to be humiliated by his weakness. “Drink. Then I’ll give you something warm to eat. I have informants only loyal to me. They can get you anything you’d like. Should you lay down?” He shook his head, pushing the cup away when it just sloshed against his lips and beard.

“Thank you. Where’s Anakin?” Padme stood, tapped a button beneath her armrest. Obi-wan watched as it lit up blue, and Padme pressed her mouth to it.

“Rex? Rex, are you there?” She asked. A garbled reply. “Bring me some warm broth, please. And medical supplies. And a toilette and blanket,” she rubbed his wrists again, and Obi-wan realized he was shaking. “Also, what is Lord Vader’s ETA?”

Another garbled message. She nodded and turned back to him, flipping the secret passage away. “I’d wondered who your friends were in Courascant,” Obi-wan muttered.

“I have many, thankfully. Anakin should be here within the hour. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here. I know the Alliance wouldn’t send their best warrior to a suicide mission on Courascant,” he shrugged.

“I can’t explain who and where,” they both knew why. “But it’s important, Padme,” he smiled. “It’s good to see you,” he nodded slowly his vision darkening at the edges. “Ahsoka… Sends her greetings,” his voice cracked at the last sentence, and Padme arched a brow. Yet she was well accustomed to darkness and death and bad news. She was Lord Vader’s wife.

Instead of asking, she just pressed a hand to his forehead. “You should sleep,” she said. Obi-wan nodded, letting himself gradually sink into the folds of the throne. His eyelids felt heavy, and exhaustion threatened to drown him, despite all his aches and pains.

“Anakin,” he slurred after a moment. “Is… is he alright?” Padme’s face started to blur and warp from his weariness, but he could tell the outline of Padme’s smile. He tried to smile back, but it might have been a grimace.

“He will be. When he sees you,” soft lips pressed into his forehead, and he let the waters consume him. “Sleep, old friend.” He did.


	2. Chapter Two

Waking came slowly. Reality drifted back to him from the bottom of a deep well, bits of it floating to the forefront of his attention like sodden leaves. The first bit was touch. There was something on his skin, not the heavy shackles of metal on his ankles or the steady pressure of body armor, or the comforting presence of a robe.

It was… Soft, fluid, like warm water sieving past his skin. Silk. He hadn’t worn that since he had returned to StewJon at the age of fifteen and discovered he came from a rather wealthy family. He couldn’t smell it past his nose but even the pain from that was dimmed to a careful din that followed the beat of his heart. Someone had set and bandaged it while he slept.

The next sensation was sound. He heard shuffling, like someone who was trying very hard not to be heard creeping around. Quick whispers, the sound of barking orders. His eyes snapped open at the last bit. Though the Clone Wars had ended nearly eight years previous, he still responded to the guttural yells of a commander, his ears attuned to the heartbeat of battle. Some peace-keeper he was.

He had fallen so far.

He came to full consciousness with a gasp, sitting up. He looked around, noticed that he was still in the throne room, except someone had moved him behind the throne, settling him on the cushioned couch behind. Heavy drapes had been settled over the windows, but based on the slit of sunlight peeking through, it was late afternoon.

He groaned, and promptly regretted it when the vibrations sizzled up his nose. Sitting up quickly, he rubbed his forehead to dispel the bout of vertigo. A warm body knelt next to him, a gentle hand squeezed his knee. “Obi-wan?” He opened his eyes again and smiled down at Padme. She had changed into something that looked moderately more comfortable.

“How long have I been out?” He asked, noticing the heavy blanket thrown over his lower body.

“Almost a full day now,” he scowled.

“I thought I was to be executed hours ago?” Padme’s gentle expression fell, and Obi-wan felt The Force spike with her alarm and guilt. “Padme?”

“Someone _was_ executed. Just not you,” he sat up so quickly they nearly bumped heads.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. One of the other prisoners. They were set to die anyway, Obi-wan. I just convinced the Stormtroopers you needed some more roughing up,” guilt and regret made his heart stutter in his chest. He should have known. His life came with a price. His very existence caused death, why hadn’t he learned that yet?

He was running out of time. “Anakin?” He asked.

“His ship touched down two hours ago. He’s reporting to Lord Sidious now,” Padme smiled and squeezed his arm. “He’ll be so happy to see you,” she breathed. Obi-wan nodded. It had been seven years since they had last had any sort of communication. He was not sure if he was afraid or excited to see Anakin again.

“I don’t see why. I haven’t exactly been helping to make things easier for him,” he replied.

“No, but you have been making things harder for Sidious, and we are both grateful for that. It means he has had less time to focus on our twins,” Padme’s eyes softened. “How are you, Obi-wan? Since you can’t tell me what you’re doing here?”

“I’m… Well, I’m alive,” and in a galaxy such as this, even drawing air was a privilege. Suddenly, he felt a _presence_ so strong in the Force that it bowled him over like a tidal wave, momentarily making him dizzy with the power of it. He gasped aloud, retched at the stench of darkness. His blood froze as a common name popped into his mind, one so saturated in pure maliciousness that it had brought most of the Jedi Order to its knees.

“Sidious?” He rasped. Padme swiveled around, standing so that her body blocked him from view. In that moment, Obi-wan saw the young queen of Naboo protecting one of her own. He saw a _good woman,_ and it lightened his heart for a moment. He predicted he would not have that for long.

Ahsoka had warned him this was a bad idea.

“Impossible,” she whispered. Obi-wan heard the whoosh of doors opening, and it seemed as if the presence had caught his stench of Light in the Force as well, because suddenly the shroud vanished, a blanket ripped away to reveal the reality beneath. Compassion, fierce and unrestrained, bounded over the walls of his mask and _Anakin_ was there. Not Lord Vader. Obi-wan inhaled sharply, tears of relief stinging his eyes.

He surged to his feet as Padme’s shoulders eased. “Hey, Ani,” she breathed.

But Anakin only gave her a smug half-grin. His eyes were searching the room, swiveling until they landed on Obi-wan, and his grin was so genuine, so familiar that Obi-wan laughed. For the first time in five years.

He laughed.

Anakin wasted no time in fairly sprinting across the room. Without a word, Obi-wan felt strong arms enfold him, and he returned the hug with equal vigor. They said nothing, (Obi-wan wasn’t sure he was breathing) just held each other as if Obi-wan weren’t dressed like a pompous ass and Anakin didn’t have the symbol of the Empire and Sith stitched into his shoulder pads. Sometime, Anakin opened his arms and Padme squeezed herself into the embrace. One or maybe all of them cried, but silently.

When Obi-wan couldn’t stand another minute, he allowed himself to sink weakly back unto the couch. Anakin dropped to one knee before him and Padme sat, chuckling a little, by his side. Anakin’s grin was glowing. Obi-wan squeezed his hand.

“Getting into trouble again, old friend?” Anakin huffed. “Nothing’s changed, I see,” Obi-wan snorted.

“You’re one to talk,” he replied.

“ _Boys,”_ Padme reprimanded, as was expected. They took a moment to bask in each other’s inherent joy, and then Anakin was gently probing Obi-wan’s split temple, eyes crinkled at the sides.

“You were tortured,” he muttered worriedly. Obi-wan preferred not to speak of that. He swatted Anakin’s hand away. “Fine, I won’t touch it, but… Listen, not that I’m not delighted to see you again, but what are you doing here Obi-wan?” He asked.

“He can’t tell us,” Padme piped in. The hand on Obi-wan’s knee tightened imperceptibly. “But suffice to say, he needs us to do something,” she gave him a hard stare, and Obi-wan smiled, extending his hands peaceably.

“On the contrary,” he replied. “I’m here to do something for you. Ahsoka says hello by the way,” he told Anakin, reluctant to get to the actual point of his being there. Once, he had been very capable of stalling Anakin for hours- sometimes weeks- on end, offering moral conundrums in the form of a lecture, and emotional charges so randomly it had taken his young apprentice by surprise.

He had thought it best, once, but now, watching Anakin’s brows furrow suspiciously, he regretted it. Had he been the first one to sow the seeds of mistrust and doubt into Anakin? Had he, in his quest to protect him, actually condemned him to this fate?

These were good questions, but perhaps the answers were too late.

“You didn’t risk your life to come here and tell me Ahsoka said hello, though the news is appreciated,” Anakin began slowly, in the tone of someone who was barely holding a temper in check. Obi-wan was impressed. He imagined Anakin didn’t have to do that much these days. “You never come unprepared. What is this, really, Obi-wan?”

Well. Apparently, the time had come. Anakin. Always on the move. He inhaled a steeling breath. “This is an extraction,” he began, voice pitched low.

Padme recoiled with a gasp. Anakin froze. “What?” She hissed.

“The Rebellion has grown strong enough so that we can hide you now. All of you. Not well, and you’d be constantly on the move and under guard, but the time has come. The plan has already been set into motion and key assets placed on high alert,” he hadn’t tried to smile much since their separation, but he managed a weak grin at the shock in Anakin’s expression. “We don’t have much time, actually,” he said.

“We’re… Leaving?” Padme peeped. Her hands lifted, slowly, to cover her trembling lips. She blinked rapidly. “We can be free?”

Anakin groped out with his prosthetic, blindly, and she gripped his hand in one of hers. “Obi-wan…” Anakin choked. His eyes closed, briefly, and he inhaled a shuddering breath, leaning forward to slump against Obi-wan’s knees. “You have no idea….” He nearly sobbed, as Obi-wan shushed them, leaning forward to squeeze Padme’s shoulder and stroke Anakin’s knotted curls.

He could feel the relief spilling from him in waves, the pure release of terror and rage and distrust. What had Sidious done to his boy? Once so full of candor and love and fearlessness?

“But I don’t understand… Why would the Rebels choose to free us instead of use us for information?” Padme gasped; one shaking hand fisted over her heart. “How did you convince them?”

“It wasn’t easy,” he assured them dryly. He did not add that his mission wasn’t exactly sanctioned by the high leaders of the Rebel Alliance. “But it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that I managed, and you’re leaving. With your children.”

“What about all of our allies?” Padme insisted. “Rex? The others? If we go, they’ll be instant targets. We can’t just…”

“Let me worry about that. But later,” he saw the fear in her eyes, the hesitance to believe that they could actually leave this place. He reached out to cup her face between two hands, imploring. “Please, Padme, our window is closing. I need you both to find an excuse to be in one place with The Twins and then follow my instructions exactly.”

Padme stared at him for another long moment, debating something, then she gave a single nod. “Alright,” she said, with a tremulous smile. “Alright. Stars, what I wouldn’t give to breathe fresh air again….”

“Right now, the twins are finishing their studies with Admiral Tarkin on warfare,” Anakin said. He pressed Obi-wan’s knee once more, then stood. “I can interrupt, claim that Sidious has summoned us. The excuse won’t last more than an hour at most. Sidious is currently off planet, but Tarkin reports all of our behaviors hourly,” he reported. Obi-wan nodded, shoving aside his anxiety to strategize. They had never been truly sure if Sidious had left planet. That was one off the reasons Mon Mothma and Bail had cautioned him to wait.

The right time, they said. Obi-wan recalled Yoda’s advice on the matter, given without asking and after Obi-wan had shown up at his doorstep, wracked with guilt and uncertainty.

 _“Waited, your entire adult life, you have,”_ Yoda had pointed out, slouched over his small cup of tea, ears drooping. _“For Qui-gon’s promise to find fruition. The Force, never a nursemaid it is. Fend for yourself, I think you must.”_

Well, he would. “An hour is enough time,” he determined, standing. “Get the twins, and go immediately to hangar dock 5-09C,” he ordered. Anakin arched a brow.

“That dock? Master, there aren’t actually ships there. Only scrap pieces.”

“Exactly,” he grinned. “If this plan is going the way I want it too, then Artoo has already reconstructed a makeshift speeder. It won’t be big, and it won’t ferry you off planet, but it will get you to the rendezvous point in the lower levels of Courascant. You’ll be shepherded to a few different safehouses, just in case, and then board a ram train which will take you to Ahsoka. She’ll pick you up and take you away.”

“What about you?” Anakin asked.

Obi-wan waved a distant hand. “Don’t worry about me. There are key players. I am but one, here to collect data,” he reached down, and tugged at the edges of his pants leg. Just above his ankle, his stitches had snapped again. A thin incision hid the data-chip he had pressed just below the skin, leaking occasional rivulets of blood. Padme hissed sympathetically when she noticed.

“My task is to provide a distraction, immobilizing their communications, while you’re escaping. I’ll meet up with you at the rendezvous point. Smile, friends,” he poked the cut on his leg experimentally, gritting his teeth against the flood of white-hot agony. He closed his eyes and pushed, tried not to hear the squelch of blood and muscle manipulated aside. The data chip slid into his fingers, slick with blood. “You’re about to be free.”

Anakin watched him eyes hooded with fear and doubt. He ran a hand through his hair, obviously uneasy. “I’ll smile when this plan of yours works,” he said, shifting feet. “What if we’re caught?” he demanded. Obi-wan sighed.

“Then I suppose we’ll all be too dead to care much about freedom.”

Padme’s chest hitched as she inhaled a stuttering breath. “That’s reassuring,” Anakin growled, squeezing her hand. Obi-wan shrugged unapologetically. It wouldn’t do them any good to lie. There had already been too many between the three of them.

“I can’t offer you false platitudes, Anakin. But know that I have planned this extraction for many years. This is your best chance, believe me. And our window is, once again, closing,” he waved at the door pointedly. Anakin gave a swift nod, and gripped Padme’ shoulder.

“Destroy anything incriminating. And give our allies a head’s up just in case,” he told her. “I’m going to get the twins,” Padme smiled, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Be safe,” she whispered. Anakin gave a roguish grin that made his heart twist, flashed him a look of wary gratitude, and fled.

“Do you want me to sew you…?” Padme inquired softly, staring pointedly at his leg. Obi-wan shook his head. He reached out.

“No time, I’m afraid,” he gasped. “Though, I would appreciate a hand up.” When he had been leveled to his feet again, he wrapped an arm around Padme’s shoulders. “You’ll stay with Bail for a few days. Hopefully, you can begin to find some peace on Alderran. I suspect you’ll be leading the Rebellion in no time,” he said, if only to give her an image of the friendliness and compassion she must have missed for seven years.

Padme scoffed a small laugh. “I doubt Bail will even recognize us...Obi-wan, how did you know we hadn’t become like everyone else? Slaves to Sidious’s whim?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “That was the main argument from the Rebel council. Most of them fully believe Anakin’s lie about becoming Lord Vader, but…” He let his eyes flutter closed as regret and anguish passed over him in a wave. He blinked away tears. “You forget, I was there Padme. Seven years ago, when Anakin told us that Sidious had offered your life in exchange for lifelong servitude. I saw the desperation in his eyes, the reluctance. We both know that that man is many things, but good at hiding his emotions is not one,” they shared a smile. Padme pressed against his side, smiling.

“Thank you for coming back for us,” she whispered, and the hitch in her voice made whatever was going to happen worth it. Obi-wan squeezed her shoulders a last time, before stepping away.

“My pleasure. Now, I don’t suppose you can call our old acquaintance Cody in here, and have him take me back to the prison cells, can you?”

“Why? Don’t you…”

“Hush,” he pleaded. _Don’t ask me too many questions._ “All part of the plan, Senator. I have friends on planet, too. Just trust me?” Padme nodded, and moved toward the buttons he had pressed earlier.

“Always.”


	3. Chapter Three

Cody seemed surprised when he didn’t try to escape.

Obi-wan supposed he couldn’t blame him, necessarily. He had almost amended his own plan several times. But this was the best way, the only way, to see his friends free. To give this poor, begrudged universe a chance at true liberation from tyranny.

 _“I found the clones,”_ he’d reminded Yoda, in a whisper of despair. _“I allowed Palpatine to plant seeds of confusion in Anakin. I failed to vanquish the Sith. This is as much my doing as anyone. I have to make it right.”_ Seven years ago, Anakin had sold his soul to protect the last vestiges of democracy and his wife’s life.

Now it was Obi-wan’s turn to sacrifice.

Cody’s hold on his arm was bruising. Obi-wan could not see his face past the helmet, but he could sense his emotions, roiling and stirring inside of him like a growing storm.

“I’ve got it from here, Hardrock,” Cody told the trooper to Obi-wan’s left, as they halted before the prison chamber. It sent a hard shiver up Obi-wan’s spine to stare into one of his many hells again. His leg, where he had taken out the data chip, throbbed. He staggered forward when Cody shoved him inside. The heavy dura-steel of the door made the walls tremble when it clanged shut. 

“I received your message,” Obi-wan straightened, rubbed his sore jaw. The leg which he had used as a living storage device had gone numb and cold. An infection? Gangrene?

He prodded it irritably. It had better _not_ be infected. “So I assumed.”

He ignored Cody’s hard stare, but he could feel familiar brown eyes burrowing into the side of his head. “Your plan… It’s suicide.”

“Yes,” Obi-wan agreed, allowing, for the first time in weeks, the façade of calm to fall. He collapsed against the opposite wall, the trembling muscles in his legs failing him. He was ashamed that it should be before Cody, of all people. The man who had once betrayed him, despite being almost as much his brother as Anakin. “But it _is_ going to work,”

“No, it won’t!” Cody hissed. He reached up and removed his helmet, and there they were. The deep brown eyes of Jango Fett stared into his soul with all the hard defiance of a broken soldier. How similar he was to his former commander, both destroyed by the codes they had held so dear. “All it will mean is your enslavement or, because Sidious is a cruel bastard, your _slow_ _death._ The Skywalker’s cover will be blown. Rebel contacts on Courascant will be exposed. Is that what you want?”

“I want them to be free,” Obi-wan insisted, leaning his head against the cold wall behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment, infinitely weary. “I am tired, Cody. All I want to accomplish in this next moment of life is their freedom. Then I can rest.”

_At last. I will find true peace._

“Sidious will not allow you a merciful death.”

“Any death will do, actually,” he had had always had a morbid sense of humor.

“General Kenobi,” he opened his eyes to see Cody kneeling in front of him. The clone laid a hand on his knee, eyes wide and earnest in the little light there was. “I know how much Skywalker means to you, but please, he wouldn’t think that this a fair trade,” he insisted. _Serves him right,_ Obi-wan thought, in a rare moment of viciousness. _I didn’t think him sacrificing his soul to Sidious was a fair trade either. Yet he went and did it anyway._

Obi-wan had not had a night’s sleep in seven years because of that choice. He gave a mild half-shrug. “Perhaps not, but he has paid his due for past mistakes. It is time I do the same,” he looked up and at Cody’s ill-hidden concern, scoffed. “I don’t expect you to understand what it means to sacrifice everything for something so small as morals.”

“Or,” Cody agreed, with a rueful half smile. “Something so tantalizing as _attachment_ , Master Jedi.” Obi-wan had nothing to say to that. That accusation might have rankled him in the past. He wasn’t technically a Jedi anymore anyway. The Temple had been decimated. Most of his people were dead or scattered across the galaxy. Qui-gon might have told him that his status as a Jedi did not come from the people he had been raised with, but Qui-gon was dead too, so what did it matter?

 _We can quibble over details when we meet in The Force_ , he thought. Cody shook his head. “I may not understand the… Loyalty you have toward Skywalker, but I do understand _loyalty,_ sir,” Cody’s eyes skipped down, a furrow appeared in his brows, before he looked up again. When he spoke, it was perfect sincerity. “I felt it for you once. So please, from a man who once would have taken a blaster to the heart on your behalf, don’t do this.”

Obi-wan’s heart panged. His resolve wavered, an old pang of primal instinct giving him pause. He had survived _so much_ , Qui-gon’s death, Ventress, The War, the Empire… Did he truly want to throw it all away now?

 _For Anakin?_ Obi-wan set his jaw and extended a hand. “Help me up, Cody. You owe me that, at least.” Cody scrambled away from him as if he were diseased, eyes wide.

“I will not be the instrument of your death. Not _again_!” He hissed, and there was something like terror in his eyes. It sparked his temper- a thing he had believed long dead- to full fruition.

“Then don’t think about it!” he snapped. “Like last time. Don’t think at all, just _obey.”_ Apparently, he had some buried resentments he needed to release. Unfortunately, he could not touch The Force, but he could finish _this._

Cody’s eyes hardened over. His mouth pinched into a thin line. “Is this really what you want?” He demanded. Obi-wan nodded. Hadn’t they been over this already?

“All the pieces are in place, Cody. Help me succeed. Please.”

“You really want to die, now?” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” yet he would. Obi-wan was tired, and the legacy he had wished to leave behind had already passed into The Force. The Jedi were gone. None but Yoda and a handful of people remained, trapped in the eternal darkness of their own mistakes. “I want to atone for my mistakes.”

“And what about your triumphs?” Cody challenged. “Do they just… Not count? The lives you’ve saved, the people you believed in, the worlds that are better because you exist?” Obi-wan’s mouth quirked at the edges. Cody sounded so passionate, so sure, but in his life, he had been taught to help others at all costs. He had done what he’d been taught. Simple as that.

“This is my last mission,” the last rescue he could make. “Help me make it worthwhile.” Cody’s shoulders sagged as he sighed.

“Alright, general,” he agreed softly. “I want you to know, though, that you _will_ be missed. By many. None of us would have wanted this.”

Obi-wan heard the regret in his voice, the portent of things that could have been. In another life, they would have been friends after the war. Maybe even brothers, unhindered by the command structure of battle.

But that was another life. In this one, Obi-wan’s time was nearly up. He accepted Cody’s help up; and squeezed the gloved hand with what little strength he had left. “Thank you, Cody. Not just for this, but for the years we fought side by side. You never stopped believing in me.”

If he didn’t know better, he would say that Cody’s breath hitched. But the Clone commander just stuffed his helmet back on and then they went hobbling away into the fortress of evil.

So Obi-wan said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy May The Fourth!


	4. Chapter Four

The Jedi Temple had been eviscerated by looters and Inquisitors and the Dark Side. It was empty, smeared with the blood of a thousand generations. Dark and eerie, desecrated.

But somehow Qui-gon’s plant was still alive. Obi-wan let the shock of it ripple out of him in a bitter laugh as he stepped into the home which had once been his and Qui-gon’s, and then his and Anakin’s, and then his, Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s because they never left him alone. _I remember when my chief complaint in the world was that they never left me alone,_ he thought, leaning heavily against the dusty countertop.

Qui-gon, with his characteristic roguishness, had devoted time and effort and compassion to his array of potted plants. Obi-wan had not been able to keep them all after his death, but he had, somehow, managed to raise a tiny sproutling of Der’jakka plant. Probably because it needed minimal attention to grow. Anakin, if he remembered correctly, had found it fascinating when he’d first arrived.

Hailing from a desert planet, he had undertaken care of the plant with a ferocity that might have pleased Qui-gon to no end. He would grow bored of it, of course, as he aged, but the plant thrived despite it all. Now its pot lay on its side. The Der’jakka had outgrown its tender soil, its roots dug deep into the crevices of the floor. Its branches strained against the ceiling, and small orange petals lay scattered across the floor.

“Hello, old friend,” Obi-wan whispered, collapsing beside the mess. Everything else had been destroyed or taken. His teapots, his meditation mats, his blankets. But those things hadn’t truly been his, anyway. They were just _things,_ pieces of memory. “You seemed to have gotten along fine in my absence,” he took a fine, leathery petal between two fingers. The plant shifted, as if recognizing his touch. Life, uncomplicated and determined, curled with delight in The Force. He allowed himself to relax into its embrace.

It was stroke of luck (but luck didn’t exist, did it?) that he hadn’t been discovered, stumbling bleeding between the Empire’s base and the Temple. He briefly wondered whether Cody had already contacted Ahsoka, if Tarkin was speaking to Sidious right now.

Then he decided it did not matter. Not truly.

Obi-wan stood with a grunt of pain. He _had_ come here for a practical reason after all. Trying not to put too much weight on his injured leg, he dragged himself into his old quarters. It was also empty, cold, dark, but in the corner, a small box remained untouched, hidden under a torn blanket. Obi-wan had left this behind in the grief and horror of the Temple’s destruction. Perhaps it was meant to be.

He released the box’s catch. Inside, Qui-gon’s saber glittered back at him.

A tear fell down his cheek as he skimmed a hand over the metal. His finger came away coated with cobwebs and dust. How long had it been since his master had fallen? Twenty years? More? He could hardly remember who had had been before that day, the boy apprentice who had been so obsessed with pleasing. Who was it that had placed his master’s saber in this box, leaving it untouched and unopened for decades?

“Forgive me, my master,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. “I should have come earlier,” he grasped the saber in his grip, felt the saber crystal within. It was sleepy, confused, reaching out to touch him like a child. He cradled it to his chest.

“I should have been better. It’s all my fault,” he whimpered.

_You know that isn’t true._

“I let my loyalties cloud your teachings. I was too loyal to the Jedi, to Anakin, to the Republic, to the Rebels. I focused too heavily on my duty. I disregarded what was right. I forgot what you taught me.”

_You never stopped standing in the Light._

“Your stupid plant survived,” he snickered, eyes stinging from unshed tears. He hadn’t cried in seven years. How could he, knowing what horrors his Padawan was living every day? Knowing what terrible things were happening across the galaxy every moment? He had thrown himself into the rebellion the same way he had thrown himself into the Jedi. When grief struck, he had not taken the time to work through. He had bashed it against the head and run while it lay, unconscious but unresolved.

The universe had suffered for it.

_I have quite a few pathetic life-forms that survived despite it all._

“I wish you were here,” he curled in on himself, the saber pumping power just over his heart. “I wish… I just wish.”

 _I have never left you, my dear one_. A pause. _You should say goodbye now._

Yes. Obi-wan crawled out of the room back into the safety of the planet. He nestled among its low branches and soft flowers, hidden from plain sight. The universal Force writhed, and he tucked the lightsaber beneath his shirt. He would need it soon. With the other hand, he dug around in his boot and found the last communication device, tucked in the space between his big toe and his sock.

It flickered awake, already losing power. It was built for a short frequency. Still, when he saw Anakin’s face, he knew it was worth it. Obi-wan grinned. “Hello Anakin.”

“Obi-wan,” breathed his former apprentice. “Thank the Force you’re alright. I… I can’t believe your plan is working. Ahsoka just contacted us. She’s on her way down.”

Good. That was good.

Obi-wan leaned back, not speaking at normal volume. The moment was too immense, it was as large as Anakin was powerful. “I’m happy for you. In a few hours, you’ll be on a ship to Alderran. It won’t be an easy life, the one you’re to lead, but you will be free. Again, because of your own bravery and determination.”

“And the unlikely and timely intervention of a Jedi Master,” Force, he had forgotten just how contrary Anakin could be. Never able to let a compliment go without offering one of his own. The boy’s brows furrowed. “Where are you?”

“You know I can’t tell you that,” Anakin hesitated.

“Are you safe?” He asked after a long pause. His voice was soft, almost fearful. Obi-wan had a sudden memory of a nine-year-old boy, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

_What will happen to me now?_

_You will be a Jedi. I promise._

Obi-wan closed his eyes and released a slow breath. “For now. Don’t worry about me. I still have work to do here. Tell me instead the first thing you want to eat as a freeman.” It was what he had asked the nine-year-old too. Anakin waved a dismissive hand.

“That’s easy. Terfollian ice cream. Ah! I can taste it now,” then, with a suspicious narrowing of the eyes. “There isn’t _sand_ on Alderran is there?”

Obi-wan barked a laugh. The plant tickled the sides of his neck. “I don’t _know,_ Anakin. You’ll have to find out, won’t you?” Anakin’s mouth split into a wide grin.

“I guess. It was a shocker to see Artoo again. Luke and Leia think he’s the greatest invention in history,” what a surprise. Obi-wan shifted, then grunted as the movement jostled something in his ribs. He crossed his arms, inconspicuously.

“He still has a few loose wires,” he warned. Anakin rolled his eyes.

“You don’t change, do you?” While Obi-wan wanted to tell him that yes, he most certainly had changed, he couldn’t. There wasn’t enough time to catch up on everything. He could feel the darkness that was Sidious, the giant storm clouds of malice. Anakin looked up as well. “Obi-wan, Ahsoka is here,” he reported.

“You should be on your way, then,” Obi-wan rasped. His heart sang with joy, but his stomach clenched with dread. _Steady Padawan. Keep your mind in the here and now._

Anakin seemed equally as torn. He was strong in the Force. He could probably sense something amiss. “Master,” he began, slowly. “I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

Obi-wan couldn’t lie to him. Not now. He planted a smile on his face, could see from Anakin’s expression that it was mediocre at best. “No, Anakin. I’m afraid this is goodbye,” he agreed tiredly. Anakin’s expression twisted into something like horror. He ran a hand over his face.

“Please don’t tell me you did this for my sake.”

Well, there wasn’t much to say to that, was there?

Nothing except: “don’t eat your ice-cream too fast. It’ll give you a headache,” Anakin choked out something between a laugh and a sob. That was what Obi-wan had said last time too. He very much suspected Anakin would do the same as he had and ignore his advice.

“I don’t know how to be free without you,” Anakin peeped. Obi-wan swiped away the tears that poured down his face, irritably. Now? Now was the time his body decided to betray him? _This is hardly the brave and noble ending I imagined for myself,_ he griped to the Force. _Couldn’t there have been a little more… Drama?_

“Tell Ahsoka thank you for me. I never would have survived these past years without her.”

_On the contrary. I think this is the bravest death the Jedi have ever seen._

Anakin bit his bottom lip. “No. No, this can’t be the end! I can come back for you. I can… There’s so much I want to say to you,” he whispered. “Too much…”

“I already know,” he interrupted gently. “You’re my brother, Anakin. I’ve always known,” he raised a hand, as if to touch a face that was too far away. Anakin did likewise, and their hands met at the fingertips, a thousand kilometers separating them.

Yet they would always be yoked at the hip. That’s what Master Yoda had said. The Force sharply darkened past the point of night. His skin crawled, and gnarled fingers reached for him. Sidious snarled, his hatred like that of a thousand tiny needles plucking the suns out of the sky. It was true that even stars died, but _this_ was rather ridiculous.

 _Kenobi!_ Sidious hissed.

“I have to go now,” Obi-wan gulped. “But I love you, Anakin. No matter what happens, I want you to know that _you_ have been the Light of my life.”

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Anakin cried, blue eyes dark with sorrow. “I love-”

The hologram fizzled away; its power sucked clean by the brief interchange. Obi-wan choked on a sob. That meant two things. The first was that he would never hear the rest of that statement, though he had a suspicion he knew where it had been headed.

The second was that enough time had passed. Sidious was most definitely inside the Senate Building by now. Obi-wan let his head fall back against the leaves. He turned the communication device over, where a small lever was beeping. He flicked it with a thumb.

_Let this bring peace._

The ground shook as the bombs he and Cody had placed around the Building exploded. Obi-wan clenched his teeth as the shock reverberated through his bones, spewing smoke and machinery not the air. The lives of a thousand people suddenly blinked out of existence, including Tarkin’s. It would have been painful if he had cared about them. Meanwhile, he knew Ahsoka would be soaring above the carnage by now, with Anakin and his family safely in her ship. The bombs would give them time and cover to escape.

A second later, the Force rippled with an outpouring of dark power. Obi-wan gasped as it literally bowled him over, the branches of his plant waving in the dark tresses. Obi-wan coughed, tasted blood on his lips. He could feel the galaxy snapping back into place, the hold Sidious had spent decades weaving around it finally torn.

The Emperor was dead.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” He mocked, scrambling to find Qui-gon’s lightsaber where it had been snatched from his grip. Sidious may have been dead, but he had no doubt that those loyal to him would rise from the ashes. There were still Sith enforcers. Lower level commanders, the fleets of Empire ships with strong grips on planets. The war wasn’t over yet.

That was why he’d raised -and freed- The Chosen One.

“The signal came from this way!” Obi-wan exhaled a shuddering breath as his fingers finally touched the metal cylinder. He hacked another cough, bringing it forward. The Temple wasn’t an empty as he had thought, and the bombs he’d used had been crude, unsophisticated so it would make it past the guards. They could easily track it back to him. He heard the low clop of Stormtrooper armor.

_Well done, Obi-wan._

“Hurry! In here!”

The lightsaber ignited in his hands. He didn’t trust himself not to break under interrogation. He didn’t trust himself to fight his way through. He didn’t trust himself with the future anymore, but Obi-wan had been raised to help people.

_Please, let this bring peace._

No matter the cost.

“ _You!”_ Golden eyes caught sight of him among the tree limbs. “Kenobi! He’s here!”

“Hold it! Drop your weapon!” Trooper blasters were aimed at him. Red sabers burned near his face. Obi-wan raised the lit saber in his hands pacifically. Grinned. His heart hammered in his chest, but he barely felt it. He was deep in the Force now, practically in its lap.

“Come now,” he drawled politely. “Why don’t we discuss this?”

He swiveled the saber in one hand in a reverse Makashi slash. Qui-gon had not approved of him learning the art, but Obi-wan had felt its importance even as a child. He could never have imagined it would be the instrument of his own demise. Then again, he never could have imagined much of his life’s experiences. All that the universe had become; and would inevitably grow into being.

Smiling, he was dead before he hit the floor.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan is woken from eternal rest by an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll thought I forgot about this one, didn't you? Well I didn't. I just needed to release my perfectionism a little for the creative waters to begin a flowing.

Becoming one with the Force was like falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Very similar to the ones he had had after long, grueling missions, when the darkness wasn’t scary or lonely but deeply satisfying, a balm to eyes blinded by too much light and noise. Before death, he’d been taught how to retain his essence in The Force.

However, Yoda’s lessons had all been in vain. He had not prepared his soul to remain distinct in the Cosmic Life Force; to retain consciousness of the universe around him. He, unlike Yoda and Qui-gon, had always been more attuned to The Unifying Force. What an honor, a mercy, to be granted sameness with the very strings of light he’d always felt, the experiences he’d always seen behind closed lids?

So Obi-wan Kenobi slept.

He did not get to see Anakin Skywalker and his family reach freedom. Did not share in their tears of relief or watch Anakin scoop his first creamy, cold bite of ice cream, tears trailing down his face. He was not present at the Rebel debriefings in any way, so Padme and Anakin stood alone amidst people only vaguely aware of their years undercover.

He was completely deaf to Anakin and Ahsoka mourning him, to Yoda’s quiet curses of his name for abandoning him. He did not hear Sidious or the Sith cackle and brag about his murder, broadcasting his death to a horrified galaxy. Nor, his loved ones agreed, would he have wanted to be there for most of that.

But the rest of the story... That might have made him proud beyond belief. He would not hear a word or whisper of it until he was woken by the one being who had the power and influence to command him.

“Master.”

 _Waking_ from the Cosmic Life force was very much like being thrust into a raging river. He was pounded out of the warmth into coldness, throat and nose clogged by the dual burden and wonder of consciousness. He would have gasped if he had been a body, but his shell was forty-five years gone by the time he regained himself.

His sight, though, was clear as ever.

Perhaps that was why he saw the sky first. It was a night sky, littered with so many pinpoints of gold lights it would have been dizzying for anyone else. But Obi-wan realized that the souls still asleep were those lights, were the flowing Force itself, and he merely was aware of the beauty. He gawked silently a moment, befuddled.

Someone cleared their throat nearby. He turned to see a very familiar face watching him with a broad grin. “Anakin?”

“Hi Obi-wan.” Anakin didn’t look as if he had aged a minute. He was the same young, handsome man from the early days of the Clone Wars, eyes twinkling with mischief, his spine strong. Beyond him, there was an endless glass sea of shimmering gold light, as if they were standing on top of a sunset.

Obi-wan soaked up the _love light daring passion stubbornness_ that was the bright soul beside him. He couldn’t think of anything large enough to say. The moment itself was something beyond words. At length, he inhaled deeply and blurted: “Why’d you wake me up, you barve?”

Anakin’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Why’d you die for me, you chosski?”

“Anakin, you can’t just go around waking people from their eternal rest. Look, my gray hairs are back,” he gestured to himself, somehow knowing that the wisdom lines in his soul had returned.

Anakin’s laugh was decidedly wobbly. “Oh, shut up and hug me, old man,” he harrumphed. Obi-wan smiled back and accepted the tight embrace. It felt different here, where bodily shells were nothing but a distant memory. Here, their souls twined, like two vines climbing a massive tree, and Obi-wan's sigh of relief stirred the hot sands of Tatooine.

It was as if a piece of his ribcage fell back into place.

“I believe that technically, you’re older than I am now,” Obi-wan chuckled at last, as they separated. He held Anakin by the shoulders and studied the boy he had raised. He had not felt anything in so long that this old, half-forgotten love was making him giddy. “How long has it been?”

Anakin glanced down. “Forty-five years, eight months and two-hundred and fifty-four days since you died.”

“You kept track,” he realized.

“I missed you every minute,” Anakin put his hands on his hips and studied the place. “I expected The Force to be, I don’t know, livelier? Almost like a heaven?”

“What? Did you want to spend the rest of your conscious days in a party?” He teased. Anakin shrugged. “Most people are asleep in the Universal currents. Where’s Padme?”

“She’s still alive, with our kids and Ahsoka. I fell in battle, like my Master before me, and before him,” Obi-wan was secretly proud, but he didn’t think it wise to let Anakin know that.

“I didn’t die in battle so you could make _a tradition_ out of it,” he scolded without much heat. Anakin laughed, and he hadn’t projected so much pure, unsullied joy since he was a very young child. Obi-wan leaned against him when Anakin threw an arm around his shoulder and tugged him close.

“Can you believe I even missed your lectures? Qui-gon told me you’d not retained your essence, but you could, if someone came by to snap you out of it.”

“So you decided to interrupt my well-earned rest...”

“I _knew_ that if I was going to explore the universe through the Force, I’d need my old mission partner with me.”

“Well good. I waited for you,” he looked up into that smiling face. “Did you have a good life, Anakin?” He whispered because that was part of the reason that he’d slept in the first place. Not even in death did he have the strength to watch Anakin suffer. Especially when there was little he could do about it.

Anakin gazed at him with a quiet sort of affection. “Master. I had a _spectacular_ life. Not an easy one, like you said, but a worthwhile one. I have two incredible children who are grown Jedi Knights now. They are brave and kind and stronger than I could ever have been...”

“The Jedi...” He barely dared to hope. Anakin nodded.

“Have risen again. I saw to that myself.”

Obi-wan couldn’t cry. Not anymore, but his delight made rain fall on Naboo. “You’ve no clue what happiness that brings me, dear one.”

“I think I have an idea,” and he did. The unshackled peoples of Kiros and Tatooine and a thousand other worlds attested to that. If anyone knew the joy of rising, it was Anakin Skywalker.

“Padme is vice-chancellor of the New Republic. She’s just as determined and compassionate and beautiful as the day I met her. Ahsoka is one of the greatest Jedi Masters in a millennium. I was incredibly blessed,” he ducked his eyes. “M-my only regret is that I didn’t confide in you earlier, that I didn’t save you...”

“Have you been holding onto this for all these years?” Obi-wan interrupted gently. When Anakin’s spirit dimmed with the weight of his guilt, Obi-wan was reminded of what pain was. He had felt so much of it in his relatively short life, but the sleep had dashed it from him.

He resolved to dash it from Anakin if he could.

“Anakin,” he pulled the boy he’d raised close and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I, too, died without regret. I may have been asleep, but we all felt the Sith fall,” he smiled. “I never doubted you were The one, and it was my choice to sacrifice my life for the future I knew you’d create.”

Anakin’s smile was tiny and bashful. “Only because I had you. C’mon,” he slung an arm over Obi-wan’s shoulders. “What do you say we find Master Jinn and wreak some havoc on an unsuspecting universe?”

That unsuspecting universe opened up beneath them, an entire array of wild and tame things, darkness and light, the eternality of life. It was beautiful and horrifying and wasn’t it just like them, to never settle, even in death? Obi-wan shivered off the last vestiges of sleep and allowed Anakin to pull him along, down to Courascant, where his children were teaching a lesson to future Jedi about _unity._

“As I said, my friend,” he chuckled, an if Luke and Leia and Cody and Ahsoka and a thousand others looked up with a tiny smile, it was purely coincidence. “I’ve been waiting for you a long time.”


End file.
